


Thrilling

by secondhand_watermelon



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Consensual Kink, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Verbal Humiliation, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25813747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhand_watermelon/pseuds/secondhand_watermelon
Summary: Link once told a story on Ear Biscuits about a girl in high school who asked him, "Is your little dick hard?" He described the experience as "thrilling."Here's what happened next.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 19
Kudos: 109





	Thrilling

**Author's Note:**

> Did I start this story in December 2019? Yes. Did I just finish it recently, seven months later? Yes.
> 
> Are the debates on measurements in the most recent EB surprisingly relevant? Oh, yes.
> 
> "You think that's four inches? That explains a lot." and "This is seven-and-a-half inches." Rhett's just warming us up for this story.
> 
> Many thanks to mythicaltzu on Tumblr for being my cheerleader and beta reader, and to soho-x on Tumblr for discussing the story idea with me in the first place all those months ago.

“Thrilling, huh?”

Link hesitated and glanced back at Rhett, who had followed him into their shared office. He blinked as Rhett closed the door behind him, something they rarely did if not in a meeting. “What?”

“You said it was thrilling.”

“I’m going to need some more context,” Link observed, setting his laptop down on his desk and reaching for his coffee mug. “What’s thrilling?”

They had just finished recording the podcast for the week, an episode planned to go out in several weeks and detailing a story that Link had rarely shared before, and never so specifically. Rhett found himself completely hung up on one little detail, however, and he could not tell if Link was being evasive or typically dense.

“When we were talking about Erica. You said it was thrilling, what she said to you.”

“Did I?” Link took a long gulp from his mug, despite the fact that the coffee lingering in it had to be ice cold by this point.

Rhett scowled. Okay, he was being evasive. “Yeah. What did you mean by that?”

“No idea, really. You know I sometimes just say stuff. Do you want to get lunch?”

“I’d rather you not be so weird about it.”

Link sighed and set down his mug. “Who’s being weird here, Rhett? You’re fixating.”

“Some girl asks you if your _little_ dick is hard, and you say it’s thrilling?”

“Just - having a hot girl talk to us was thrilling back then, Rhett. Remember? That’s all I’m saying.”

“She insulted you.”

“And I had a good comeback.”

Rhett laughed. “Come on, brother. Don’t tell me you really think you gave her that comeback! We came up with that days later, when you were sleeping over at my house and couldn’t stop talking about it. Don’t you remember?”

Link felt himself flush. “I didn’t, actually. Every time we tell that story, we say that’s what I said to her. I forgot that wasn’t true. Did I really not say that?”

“Nah, man. You got all red and flustered and shit. I think you might have even said ‘yeah’ before she just turned around and walked away. You basically _told_ her you had a hard-on for her, and a tiny one at that. And that’s _thrilling_?”

“Just drop it,” Link fired back, turning his back to his best friend and opening his laptop. “I’m going to order lunch. What do you want?”

Rhett hesitated. He could keep pushing, he knew, but Link was so likely to clam up even further, or get angry, that he was not sure it was worth the risk. He had to wait, pick his moment.

“How about Thai?” he said, and they moved on.

***

“Still can’t believe I never said that to her,” Link said a few nights later. They were practically alone in the building, working a rare late night to finish up some show planning for the end of the year.

“Said what to who?” Rhett asked absently, typing something into an open document on his laptop.

“Erica. It’s been so many years, I really thought I did.”

Rhett froze, and very carefully did not lift his head. “Memory’s a weird thing, man,” he said finally, hoping Link would not notice that he had stopped typing.

Link tilted his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Guess so.”

“You never did say,” Rhett added, forcing a casual tone.

“Say what?” Link had half-turned toward him, the tension in his body visible.

“Why it was so thrilling. Not really.”

“I did say. Hot girl, man.”

“Yeah,” Rhett murmured. He turned now, looking Link in the eyes. Link blinked rapidly, and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly in his throat. “But that’s not really it, is it?”

Link knew that look. Rhett had given him a similar look so many times over the years; it said, _I’ve figured something out._ He hated that look, how often it came paired with Rhett’s infamous know-it-all vibe. He hated more how often it was right.

“Isn’t it?” he said lightly, too lightly, and the look in Rhett’s eyes intensified.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Despite himself, despite everything, Link felt a tightening low in his belly, felt his cock give a curious twitch. He had spent so many years trying not to think about that encounter, about other times just like it: a tall, lanky boy sliding a hand down the back of his pants, grazing the soft flesh of his ass just to grab hold of his underwear and yank, hard; or the sly, giggling voice of the third girl he’d ever kissed as she mocked him for the erection she’d discovered poking her in the thigh.

He had even found himself affected by the way Christy would sometimes, ever so sweetly, tease him for his libido, for the way his cock leaked so eagerly whenever she so much as wrapped a delicate hand around it, or for the needy way he would kiss her and tug off her clothes and tumble her into their bed. _Just can’t help yourself, can you, baby?_ she’d ask him with her soft drawl, and he’d shiver and shake his head and keep going, driven by the sweet burn of subtle humiliation. He had never fully understood it, had tried hard most of the time not to think about it. He had certainly not intended to inadvertently reveal, to his best friend and their entire listening audience, that he found anything like this _thrilling_.

When his eyes refocused, Link realized Rhett was still looking at him, but his expression had changed. He looked...determined.

“I think you liked it,” Rhett said quietly. “Really liked it.”

Link swallowed. “We talkin’ about this, brother?” He hated the way his voice shook.

Rhett stood, moving away from him, circling around behind the couch. Link started to turn, to follow him with his gaze and make sure his friend didn’t do something, but a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, fingers gently pressing into the side of his neck, guiding him to look straight ahead once more. Link felt goosebumps trail their way down the length of his arm, from the push of those fingers into his flesh all the way down to his wrist.

“We never talk about this,” Rhett observed quietly. “None of this.” His fingers shifted, brushing up against the back of Link’s neck, and Link felt the calloused tips of them unerringly find _that_ spot, the one he had warned his friend away from ages ago. His head fell forward, unbidden, and he bit his lip. Hard.

“I wanna talk about it,” Rhett continued, tugging gently at the short hairs at the nape of Link’s neck, nails grazing. “I know you don’t. I know you never have. So don’t talk, Link.” Link felt him lean forward, felt the warm exhalation of his breath waft over his skin. “Just listen.”

Link almost stood up, almost shrugged away Rhett’s hand, the feel of his breath (too warm, too intimate), the weight of his words. They had danced up to and run away from so many moments like this in twenty-five years; what would it be to run from one more? He felt entirely vulnerable, exposed, and Rhett was not running. Rhett was _right there_. He almost decided to run instead.

Instead, he spoke.

“I’m listening.”

It was so soft that he thought Rhett might miss it, that the moment might rise and crest and pass, like all the others before it. Instead, another soft breath ruffled the short hairs on the back of his head, and Rhett’s hand slid, heavy with promise, to rest over the curve of his shoulder once more.

“Close your eyes.” Rhett’s voice was strange, something he’d never heard before. Thick, hoarse. Wanting. “Just...just close ‘em.”

Link obeyed, feeling his pulse leap and throb in his throat, matching the throbbing between his thighs. He didn’t know which he hoped for more: that Rhett would notice how affected he was, or would overlook it entirely. He stared into the darkness behind his eyelids and waited.

“Link.”

He sucked in a breath. _Rhett_.

“Are you hard, Link?”

 _So close_. Link let that same breath out, shakily. His palms were sweating.

“Are you hard for me?”

_No. Too much. Too close to home, too -_

The hand was joined by its twin on his other shoulder, digging in, grounding him. He let the moment of anxiety pass, let his head loll back, just a little, finding the firm length of Rhett’s arm and leaning into it.

“I think you are. I think you have been since I brought this up again. Well, really, _you_ did. So maybe you _wanted_ me to push it. To make you admit it. To tell you what I see.”

A pause, an audible breath.

“You’ve got a bad habit, Link, you know that? You tell us. Me, the mythical beasts, everyone. You tell us what you like, what you want. I bet most of the time you don’t even realize it. You’re so _obvious_.”

Fingers slid into his hair, tugging his head back further. Link let Rhett touch him, move him; he kept his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted and his brain so, so quiet.

“Bet you thought I’d just drop it this time, like I do every time. But I was there. I saw your face when she said it. I see your face every time you tell the story. When you tell lots of stories.”

Rhett’s breath curled around the rim of his ear, so close.

“I’ve known what you want _for years._ ”

Link could not help it; he shuddered under Rhett’s hands. The sound of his voice, the feel of his breath, his hands; it was all so much. But more than that: Rhett _knew_ . He always knew. He knew _everything_ , damn it.

“Then say it,” he gasped out without thinking, his voice rough.

“Oh, Link.” Rhett’s lips brushed his earlobe, speaking just above a whisper. Link felt another shiver course violently down his spine. “Link. Tell me.”

A moment. A breath.

“Is your little dick hard?”

Link felt the words wash over him like a wave, arching his neck and exposing his throat, bending his back, rolling his hips. They were so much _better_ coming from Rhett's mouth, in Rhett's low, teasing growl. A soft whimper slipped out into the tension-thick air; he realized, too late, it had escaped his own mouth. He was writhing, he knew, writhing under Rhett’s fingers clenched into the muscle of his shoulder and tugging at the waves of his hair, moving toward the tease of his mouth and away from the humiliation of his words. He was caught up in it; he was lost to it.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he panted, unable to hold the words back, body sinking back into the couch. Rhett’s hands slipped away from him, and he almost opened his eyes and mouth to protest the loss. Before he could, however, Rhett spoke again.

“Show me.”

His whole body froze at the words. _I can’t - it’s too much_ \- 

“Listen to me, Link. It’s easy.” Rhett knew him so well, it was unfair. “I probably won’t even notice, will I? But you say it is, so just show me.” When Link continued to hesitate, Rhett spoke again. “You can’t even control yourself, can you? One little whisper and you’re aching for it. Unbutton your jeans, there’s a good boy.”

Link was hot, sweating through his tee shirt, feeling drops of sweat slide down the length of his spine. He slowly brought his hands to the button of his jeans, worked it through the hole.

“Slide down your zipper. Come on, I shouldn’t need to tell you this. You can undress yourself. Just take out that little dick for me, Link. Show me how hard it is for me.”

His face burning, Link obeyed. He slid down the zipper of his jeans and arched his ass off the cushion to tug them down over his hips. He left them pooled just above his knees, unwilling to go any further, as if it could protect him from the embarrassment Rhett was so casually inflicting. Only a thin strip of skin was revealed on his thighs between the hem of his dark green boxer briefs and the waistband of his lowered jeans, but the jut of his cock in its confines, combined with the slick dark wetness conspicuously evident where the head of it pressed against the fabric, was more exposure than he had ever expected to endure in front of his best friend.

“Oh, my. You can almost tell, can’t you? That you’re so worked up. But I said to take it out, Link. You’re having trouble listening to me today, huh. Need me to talk you through it?”

Link nodded, then shook his head. He was dizzy, uncertain of what he wanted or what he could even let himself ask for. Rhett chuckled softly, not unkindly. His hand came back, carded gently through Link’s hair, and grounded him with the sweetness of the gesture.

“Take it out for me, Link. Come on. I wanna see it.”

He tucked his thumbs into the elastic waistband of his underwear, tugged them down. His cock bounced a bit when he slid the boxer briefs past it, flushed and a bit damp around the tip. He heard Rhett make a soft sound of approval, and despite himself, his cock twitched in response.

“Yeah,” Rhett breathed, fingers tightening in his hair. “That’s it. So good for me.”

Link moaned, thrusting just a bit into the empty air. Rhett seemed to have found every secret button, even ones he did not know he had, and was pressing them in rapid succession. He felt a drop of fluid slide down the length of his cock, so thick and slow against his oversensitive skin that it was almost painful in a delicious way. His hips bucked once more.

“Not gonna touch you, Link,” Rhett murmured behind him, and Link whined, he couldn’t help it. He _wanted_ , he wanted so badly. “Not this time. But it’s okay. You’re gonna touch yourself for me. You’ve been so good, showing me that little cock of yours, how hard you got for me. It’s cute. I wanna see it come for me now.”

“Rhett,” Link whimpered, body quivering with lust and shame. Rhett tugged at his hair again, and he hissed at the pleasure-pain of it. “I can’t. I can’t just - ”

“You can,” Rhett replied, his voice an odd mix of encouragement and demand. “You put us in this position, Link, because you just can’t help it, can you? Pretty little dick responds to just about anything, I bet.” Link sucked in a breath and Rhett pushed. “Doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Link ground out, finally giving in and wrapping the fingers of his left hand around himself. He was ambidextrous, could finish himself with either hand, but with the left it might be just a little easier to pretend someone else was touching him. Someone like Rhett. Or - and his hips gave another involuntary jerk at the idea of someone stroking him for Rhett to watch, for his amusement, for that sweet, gentle mockery of every pulse and throb and drip - “Fuck!”

“Good boy.” Rhett tugged at his hair again, firm and insistent, until Link’s head tilted back and his eyes slid open, meeting the fierce grey-green of his friend’s. “That’s it, Link. Touch yourself.”

“I am, I am,” Link whispered, unwilling to close his eyes again, forcing himself to stare into Rhett’s face even as it made his eyes tear up with humiliation. He forced the words from his throat. “Are you watching me, Rhett?”

“I’m watching you,” Rhett responded hoarsely, stroking the length of his throat. “See you jerking that little cock for me, Linkster. It’s real nice. Bet you’re gonna make a mess of yourself any minute now. All for me, isn’t it? Cause you just couldn’t wait to get home before touching yourself.”

Link groaned and his hand sped up. Behind him, Rhett chuckled.

“You jerked off in our office before, buddyroll?”

Link gasped and felt a flush rise on his cheeks. “N-no.”

“Liar.” Rhett’s voice continued to be affectionate, with a sweet-sharp edge of arousal. “Bet you come in here all the time when I go grab us lunch and jerk off to the thought of something we just filmed, don’t you? Some sweet thing I said, some mess you got all over your face, some... _compromising position._ ”

“Do not,” Link countered, gripping the base of his cock as the white-hot leading edge of his orgasm threatened. Rhett’s hand, which had been petting his throat like he was a dozing puppy, tightened slightly around it, and Link gasped.

“Tell the truth,” the taller man purred, and Link moaned softly.

“Not _all_ the time,” he admitted weakly. “Once or - or twice.”

“Shame on you,” Rhett scolded, and Link’s hand jerked hard upwards once, twice, before hitting the perfect spot just under the head of his cock and making his vision go fuzzy around the edges.

“Rhett!”

Just as he started to come, Rhett’s mouth descended, colliding with his and drinking in all his moans and gasps and cries. Rhett’s hand stayed, still and restraining, around the length of his throat, and Link thrashed and bucked on the sofa as if he was astride a bull, his whole body straining with the force of his release. It felt as if it lasted a lifetime.

When at last he slumped over, belly and thighs wet with cum, Rhett gently released his throat and hair. “Good boy,” he whispered again, bending a bit farther to kiss Link’s cheek, and Link whimpered softly in reply, his eyes falling closed in exhaustion.

He was dimly aware of Rhett rustling around the room, returning with a soft bandana from Link’s desk and a bottle of water, which he used to wipe Link clean. Link sighed softly when Rhett touched his cock for the first time, half-hard and damp, to tuck it back into his boxer briefs and slide them back over his ass.

“I can do this myself,” he grumbled softly, ignoring the way his chest tightened when Rhett’s fingers slid, warm and gentle, across his belly.

“I know,” Rhett said simply. “Up.”

Link lifted his hips again to allow his jeans to be drawn up and zipped. “Then why?”

“Something something aftercare,” Rhett said easily, before setting down the bandana and water bottle. “Scooch.”

Link reluctantly slid over and made just enough space for Rhett between the arm of the couch and his own body. They were silent for a moment, before Link opened his eyes with a squint and glanced over. Rhett gave him a crooked smile and extended his arm along the back of the couch - a move that Link usually ignored, but today he allowed himself to rest his head on the stretch of Rhett’s body between his chest and his bicep.

“So.”

“So.”

Link sighed. “Do we have to talk about it?”

Rhett shrugged. “You’re the verbal processor, not me.”

“I’m not ready,” Link decided, and Rhett nodded.

“We should probably have, like, a safeword next time,” he said, after a moment. Link craned his neck to look up into his friend’s eyes.

“Next time?”

“Mm,” Rhett affirmed. “Next time your little dick gets hard.”

Link scoffed and elbowed him in the ribs. In response, Rhett kissed his forehead.

“Link is for _length_ ,” Link reminded him grumpily, in contrast with the way his body seemed to melt in response to the kiss as he sank back into his friend's embrace. Rhett smiled.

“Whatever you say, bo,” he murmured. “Whatever you say.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at secondhand-watermelon on Tumblr!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(Podfic) Thrilling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921699) by [Apparentlynotreallyfinnish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish/pseuds/Apparentlynotreallyfinnish)




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